Page 13 of Finding the One (River Rain #7)

Damn, I didn’t need to know all of this about Alasdair Wallace.

I took my hand from his knee and returned my attention to the women.

They were both staring at Dair’s knee, Davi with an incredulous, elated expression, and Kenna with an incredulous, peaceful one (yes, those didn’t seem like they could work together, but they did).

“I can’t speak for everyone,” I broke their weird fascination with Dair’s knee and got their focus. “But whatever you need from me, Kenna.”

“She likes steak,” Davi said before popping a grape into her mouth.

That made me laugh.

Things seemed less tense after all of that, and we ate and drank coffee (or tea), and waited for the next ordeal to knock on the door.

I didn’t have a very good internal clock (probably why I was late too often), but I’d gauge Bally was late too since my estimate was that a good fifteen minutes passed before that knock came.

We were all done eating, thus we were only sipping.

Kenna opened her mouth, but she shut it, her gaze following her son as he unfurled his long body from the couch and prowled to the door.

Prowling, stalking, the man could move.

Lord.

He opened the door.

Bally jolted when he saw him.

“Mum’s divorcing you,” Dair declared, and I closed my eyes.

Men.

Or rather, protective sons.

I opened them when he kept talking.

“You’re to stay in Edinburgh. She’ll let ye ken when ye can come and get your shite from the house.” He took hold of the suitcase and rolled it into his father’s legs. “Now ye can take this and go.”

“I’d like to speak to my wife,” Bally said through his teeth.

Dair didn’t move from barring the door, but he did turn his head to look at his mum.

“Ye interested in anything he has to say?” he queried.

“Actually…no,” she replied, like she just had that thought.

“Kenna—” Bally started, trying to push in.

Dair butted chests with him. “Not another step.”

Oh boy.

I prepared to stand up and intervene.

Bally attempted to look beyond him and said to Kenna, “I’d like the chance to explain.”

I knew Dair was winding up to reply, but Kenna stood and called, “Dair.”

He looked at his mother again, hesitated two very long, excruciating beats, and stepped aside, a muscle dancing up his cheek.

Shoving the suitcase out of the way, Bally took two steps in.

Dair closed the door.

“Please, in front of your family,”—Kenna spread her hands before her—“explain.”

But Bally spied me, so he requested politely, “Lass, can I have some privacy with my family?”

Even though I wasn’t sure I should leave with Dair in his current mood, I moved to stand.

Dair stated, “She’s not going anywhere.”

I stopped moving.

“No offense, son,” Bally said to Dair. “But this is Wallace business.”

“And you’re a Wallace. And you’ve been thrusting your cock in her mother for decades. Think she’s earned her place on that couch.”

Bally’s ruddy cheeks got ruddier as he held his son’s gaze. “This is private business, and should be private, even from you.”

“It wasn’t private when I saw you fucking her in our stables,” Dair shot back.

Oh shit.

Kenna gasped.

Davi audibly gulped.

“And it wasn’t private when Blake saw you going at it with her mother in the hall in Treverton,” Dair carried on. He then added, “She was no more than ten.”

Bally paled.

Kenna sank back in her chair.

“Ye catch ’em?” Dair asked Davina.

“Not doing the deed, just kissing,” Davi said in a small voice.

Her small voice, which was so not Davi, served to enrage Dair.

This led to his tone being hard and tight, and his affect being mildly terrifying (and it was only mildly because his fury was not aimed at me) when he demanded, “So…explain. Tell us why ye put us through this. Why ye broke Mum’s heart. Find those words, Dad. We’re waiting to hear them.”

Bally swallowed and then started, “A man?—”

And with that, not that he had that firm of a hold on it, Dair lost it.

Entirely.

Spiking toward his father, he shouted, “Fuck that! Bloody fuck that fucking shite !”

“Step back, son,” Bally said in a shaky voice.

Dair did not step back.

“All my fucking life, you’ve drilled into me, the last thing ye wanted me to be was a weak man.

” He reared back only to thump his chest like a caveman.

“Real men hunt. Real men dress their own game. Real men play rugby, not football. Real men have a natural seat on a horse. Real men belch after a good meal as a compliment to the chef and can drink their weight in whisky.” He got in his dad’s face again and continued, “Real men provide . Real men protect . Real men gather as much pussy as they can before they find the one, but when they do, they cherish her. Did ye cherish Mum while ye were fucking Helena, Dad? Is that what ye were doing?”

“I-I’ve disappointed you.” Bally turned to look at Kenna and Davina. “I’ve disappointed you all.”

“Did ye aye, Dad,” Davi sneered.

“I think perhaps, at this time, you might wish to take your leave, Bally,” Kenna suggested.

“We’ll talk,” Bally said quickly. “When we’re all home, as a family, once it’s not as fresh, we’ll talk.”

“It isn’t fresh, Dad. You’ve been doing her for decades,” Davi said. “We’re all just tired of pretending we dinnae think you’re an arsehole for doing it.”

Bally took that hit and looked wretched.

I didn’t feel bad for him.

In fact, I thought every man who broke a woman’s heart and shattered a family should have to go through much the same thing.

“Blake—” Bally started, his attention coming to me, and I tensed.

But then Dair was blocking his view of me and growling, “Dinnae even fuckin’ look at her.”

Good Lord.

My belly warmed again as my gaze pinged from Kenna (who was studying her lovely flats, but her mouth was curved up) to Davina, who was openly grinning as she examined her fingernails.

Okay, okay, okay.

Seriously!

What was happening?

“Bolt,” Dair grunted to his father.

“I understand why you’re upset with me, Alasdair,” Bally said quietly. “It guts me I did that to ye. To all of ye.”

“Stop fucking havering,” Dair gritted. “And bolt .”

There were several very tense moments before movement resumed at the door. I couldn’t see much with Dair’s big body in the way. Though I did see the door open, I heard the wheels on a bag wheeling, and the door shut.

For good measure, but unnecessarily, Dair slapped the security latch closed before he stalked back to the couch and threw himself on it.

I would have bounced, but he was sitting so close to me, he was nigh on sitting on me, so he kept me in place.

Whereupon he muttered to himself many words, only a few of which I caught, and they included “bawbag,” “arsepiece,” and “fuckin’ walloper.

” Although I could put two and two together and understand what those words meant (loosely), it gave me the impression he was curbing his Scottish considerably while talking with me.

Seemed they all were, which was kind of sweet.

When he was down to trying to make his coffee cup explode with his eyes, I touched his arm and whispered, “Hey.”

He looked to me.

“It’s over. And I’ll make steaks tonight.”

For a second, it seemed like he no longer comprehended English.

That second passed and he smiled his audacious smile.

“Good to hear it, lassie.”

Did I just play into his hands?

Well, whatever.

Kenna liked steak too, so did Dad, therefore we were having that with hasselback potatoes, roasted brussels sprouts and bakery rolls. I wasn’t going to make the rolls from scratch because I was going to make dessert. My vanilla cake.

All sorted, I snuggled back into my corner of the couch and asked the room, “Now, who all is going to the rental car place with me and Dair?”

“Give me a chance to shower, and I’m in,” Davi said.

“I’m going to wander around the square. From what I could see, it looks like there are some lovely shops and Chloe said she had one there,” Kenna said.

“I’ve got to shower too. Half an hour?” Dair asked his sister.

“Ye do ken I have a vagina, dinnae ye?” she asked back.

“You’ve tried all your life, ye can’t make me retch,” he returned. “Forty-five?”

She refilled her cup and wandered to the door saying, “I’ll be ready when I’m ready.”

The door snicked shut behind her.

Dair looked to me. “Keep Mum company.”

I smiled. “Of course.”

His eyes dropped to my mouth.

My stomach dropped entirely.

“Thanks, hen,” he whispered, leaned in, kissed my cheek (my cheek! what was that ?), angled out of the couch and sauntered away.

“Now, Blake,” Kenna said, leaning forward to finally partake of the food, “you’ve been here often. Which shops shouldn’t I miss?”

I shared all the places she could go (definitely Chloe’s casual, with some outdoor wear for the stylish set shop was one of them).

And I took her pulse (she didn’t hide the sad, but she seemed to be holding up) as we waited for the Wallace kids to shower and get ready.